


Babies Make Me TARDIS-Sick

by ALC_Punk



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-06
Updated: 2011-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-27 02:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALC_Punk/pseuds/ALC_Punk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking care of baby is not as easy as it sounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Babies Make Me TARDIS-Sick

**Author's Note:**

> Written for one of the female character trope fests. From the prompt: Prompt: Doctor Who, Iris Wildthyme/the Rani, unexpected co-parenting is bad enough. Unexpected co-parenting between two renegade Time Ladies, neither of which are exactly sane or the motherly type, is even worse.

"He's always after me ass, you know," Iris was saying, or rather, warbling. Almost. She'd had more than too much to drink, three bottles of something unnameable scattered around her and the table. It was impossible to say that she'd drunk all of them herself, but rumor was think on the ground that she had.

"The Doctor, that is--loves pinchin' me behind, and I'm always tellin' him, I'm not that kin'a girl..."

Iris paused to belch, and her listener perked up a little. There wasn't much to do in the back of beyond, and the Rani had been trying to work out an escape plan before she killed the woman opposite her. Or Time Lady, as Wildthyme claimed.

Given some of their mutual ancestors, the Rani didn't actually doubt her claim. Rassilon himself had had more than a few throwback quirks. Really. Immortality as a stone?

The Rani could think of much better uses for places like the Death Zone, but she was a renegade and unlikely to ever be able to implement them.

Sadly.

However, Wildthyme's reference to the Doctor made the Rani pay a little more attention to her. She could have possibly left by the door, but since the door appeared to open onto nothing, and Iris had babbled something about extra-dimensional interfaces, the Rani wasn't going to take chances.

A surreptitious scan hadn't produced anything except empty bottles, the table they sitting at and the benches.

"The Doctor, you say?" Prompted the Rani, more out of boredom than curiosity.

"Know 'im, do you?" Iris peered at her, then gave an amused cackle, "You're part of that Group, ain't ya. The ones who rebelled and went off calling yourself all sorts of fancy, silly names like the Roster and the Manifest Destiny--or was that some Earth custom."

There was no time for the Rani to interrupt, though she could have if she'd felt like it. Really. The Manifest what? The nerve of the woman!

"And, a'course, 'im." Turning, Iris spat, though whether in disgust or because of the biological need, the Rani wasn't inclined to check. "You know, one of these days, I might even say yes to his proposal."

If it were possible for a decrepit, over-dressed, drunken Time Lady to have stars in her eyes, Iris would manage it.

The Rani snorted, "The Doctor has asked you to marry him?"

A laugh was her only answer, followed by a knock at the door. "Now, who can that be? I'm not expectin' anyone--Come to that, I wasn't expectin' you, m'dear." Iris leaned over the table and patted the Rani's hand. "Could you get it, luv? I'm a bit unsteady on me pins."

It could be a chance to escape, the Rani reasoned. She wasn't there to fetch and carry for a drunkard, after all.

Opening the door produced a basket.

"Well? What is it?"

The Rani peered down at the basket. "It's a baby."

"A baby? Bring it here. Probably some stray caught in a time eddy..." Iris trailed off for no reason that the Rani could fathom.

With a sneer, the Rani hoisted the basket up by its handle and deposited it on the bench next to Iris. After all, she wasn't going to deal with the thing. Still... Pulling out a scanner, she began using it on the baby, checking it for delta particles.

"You can't do that," Iris said, glaring over her the basket and part of the table.

The Rani glared back. "This infant," she pointed out, "Could have some sort of scientific value."

"You're not experimenting on our baby."

"The child," the Rani emphasized the lack of connection with her tone, "is not ours. It merely appeared, and therefore--"

"Someone could be looking for the little bugger." interrupted Iris. She bent down and cooed at the babe, almost over-setting herself onto the floor. "Whoa!" She grasped the edge of the table, "Still a bit unsteady on me pins, there."

The baby took offense to that and uttered a sound that resembled the cry of a wild animal the Rani had once hunted for its adrenal glands. She couldn't quite remember the experiment, but she was sure it had been a success. She transfered her glare to the baby, "Silence."

If anything, the wail got louder and more high-pitched.

"Is that any way to talk to a child?" Demanded Iris before she attempted to scoop the baby up. She was unsuccessful in the endeavor and ended up almost knocking the basket off the bench. "Here now, baby, do let us have a think--eh, Rani, you pick 'er up."

The Rani drew back from the table and the child, "I don't--"

"Do you want her to keep bawling like that?"

A high-pitched shriek made the Rani flinch. She chose the easiest form of silencing the culprit and moved to pick up the child (shooting her would be right out, for the moment). Holding her awkwardly (if indeed, the baby was a she), she glared at her as she continued to wail. "It's not working."

"You're not holding her right."

The Rani glared at Iris, who'd opened another bottle of something unnameable and seemed content to simply sit and watch. "Then show me."

"Gotta sort've--" Iris gulped down a swallow and then belched, "There, that hit the spot. Maybe she'd like some?"

"Alcohol isn't good for infants." The Rani found herself shifting the baby awkwardly until she found that letting her lean against her shoulder was less uncomfortable.

Iris hooted, "Now who's the great baby expert?"

"Biology," the Rani snapped. "If she's human--which she might not be--" The Rani had pretty much stopped worrying about the sex of the child in order to lecture, "--alcohol has deleterious affects on adult humanoids. On children and babies, one assumes--"

"Shut it," suggested Iris with a rude snort.

"Don't be stupid, you old fool," at the end of her rope, the Rani set the baby back in the basket and began scanning her to determine her origin.

"I already said, you will not--"

The Rani slapped Iris's hand away from her wrist-scanner and glared. "I was trying to find out where it arrived from, so we could return it."

"Send it back?" Iris sounded outraged--enough so that she actually managed to get to her feet. Possibly so that her shouting would be more directed at the Rani. 

The baby began to sob louder, in the background. The Rani felt a little spark of satisfaction as she saw Iris's eye twitch. The sound was beginning to get to her, too. Good. "It doesn't belong to us. The sooner its parents--"

"Don't even say that sort of thing in front of 'er!" clapping her hands over the baby's head produced an oddly comical effect. 

"Why not? We-I don't want her." Cold logic had always been her refuge.

Iris screwed up her face, then bent over the basket. "There, there, sugarplum. Everything will be just fine, I promise. Auntie Iris and Auntie Rani will take care of you--won't we." Iris's gaze was suddenly full of razors as she looked at the Rani. 

"We will not."

For just a moment, there was the hint, the idea, that the air was going to crackle with power and then the moment was gone and Iris was tripping onto the bench with a muttered curse that she immediately apologized to the baby for. 

Annoyed even more, the Rani moved towards the door.

"You won't get anywhere." Iris's voice was still somewhere between drunk and vague, with an undertone of cooing as she waved her fingers at the suddenly quiet baby. 

Checking her wrist scanner, the Rani was satisfied to see the atmospheric indications outside the door. A pleasant night, if one enjoyed such things. "I have better things to do than listen to an old fool prattle," she said with a sneer before opening the door. 

The Rani had the impression of a supernova before she stepped on a bottle that had rolled under her foot and fell backwards, landing in the dirty straw. She cursed and surged back to her feet to hang onto the edges of the door and stare outwards. The lazy spin of a spiral arm wafted by, followed by a trail of ice-coated asteroids and a comet that seemed to wink as it sped by. 

"Where are we?"

"Not sure, dearie. I misplaced the navigation unit--or sold it off." Iris gave a strange chuckle, "Can never remember. Now, close the door before we lose atmosphere and die in the vacuum of space. It ain't a pleasant thing, after all."

With a barely-restrained snarl, the Rani slammed the door. The subliminal hum she'd been discounting since she'd arrived kicked up for a moment, and she realized, at last, where she was. 

"You have a TARDIS."

Iris tutted, fingers still tickling at the baby, "You and they weren't the only ones with a flare for borrowing. Though I seem to recall the Castellan told me I had use for as long as I pleased."

"I'll bet he did," the Rani muttered. She moved back to the table, the baby, and the old woman. "Where is my TARDIS?"

"Blinovitch was never very popular among the younger set," was Iris's bored reply. She sat back. "Have a drink and then hold the baby while I go try to find something for her to eat."

"I will not--" 

But there was no point in objecting. Yet. Besides, the baby grabbed hold of the Rani's collar before she could push her away, and there was nothing for it. She sat, almost cradling the infant, a sneer on her face. 

The situation would mend itself. Soon. 

Right after she stopped Iris from making baby formula that was half-whiskey.


End file.
